


Fred Weasley's Best Worst First Date.  Ever.

by Greenschist



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenschist/pseuds/Greenschist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of longing, Fred finally gets a date with Hermione.  Things don't go exactly as he hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fred Weasley's Best Worst First Date.  Ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fwhg_ldws comm for the prompt "getting a flu."

"A-ha! Primping again, are you?" George grinned at his brother's reflection in the mirror over the register before calling over his shoulder, "Verity, you owe me a Sickle!"

Fred pressed one hand against his churning stomach. "You're just jealous because you'll never be as handsome as I am."

George paused in mid-snort to catch the coin their shop assistant tossed in his direction. "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley," Verity said kindly. "You look nice, and a date is really nothing to be nervous about."

"This isn't just any date, though." George slipped a companionable arm over Verity's shoulders. "This is his first date with Hermione Granger, the girl he can't take his eyes off of, the girl whose name he's been moaning in his sleep for three years now, the girl who—"

"I see." Her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. "Then I guess he does have a reason to be nervous."

"Thanks a lot, both of you. Your support means so much to me." Fred gave them half his attention while he thought about the night ahead. He felt as if his hopes for the future—the future he wanted with Hermione—were riding on tonight. A cramp knifed across his midsection, and he could feel a headache building behind his eyes. He _was_ nervous.

Fred popped one of their newest creations, a Dragon Breath Divinity, into his mouth, but even breathing fire from his mouth and nose didn't relieve the pressure in his head.

*

A date with Hermione Granger was as wonderful as Fred thought it would be.

The way she smiled at him in the candlelight, the way she looked in her blue dress and strappy silver sandals, the way they could talk effortlessly about everything and anything…it was perfect.

_If I wasn't feeling like I've been hit by the Knight Bus,_ Fred thought, _I'd be having the time of my life right now._

He nodded as Hermione talked animatedly about Ron and Lavender's impending wedding, forcing himself to swallow a bite of chicken past his scratchy throat. His body felt buffeted by alternating waves of hot and cold. As much as he wanted to commit this evening to memory, he had an almost uncontrollable urge to put his aching head down on the table and go to sleep.

"Your sister is _not_ happy that she's a bridesmaid instead of a bride again." Hermione's cheerful voice was coming from far away. "What is Harry waiting for…Fred?"

Fred opened his eyes, realizing for the first time that he had closed them. Hermione's face swam before him. "Are you all right? You're pale." She touched his cheek with gentle fingers. "Oh, you're hot!"

"So're you," he mumbled, as Hermione jumped up and scurried around the table.

"Um, thank you," and Fred imagined for a moment that her lips brushed his cheek as she helped him out of his seat. "Let's get you some air."

"Air. Yes. Air would be good." He absently patted his pockets for his wallet only to see Hermione placing a small stack of galleons on the table. Before he could protest, she guided him past the other diners and out the front door. Fred staggered over to a lamp and held on, breathing deeply through his nose to quell his nausea.

"I'll help you home, Fred." Hermione rubbed his back in soothing circles.

Fred faced her, wanting to tell her she was beautiful, that he'd had such high hopes for tonight, but he jackknifed forward and threw up tandoori chicken and raita all over her open-toed shoes instead.

He had time to think _I just ruined my life_ before fainting.

*

Fred awoke with steam coming out of his ears and his brother, still holding a bottle of Pepper-Up, laughing down at him.

"On the 'How Did Your Date Go' scale," George choked out, "hitting her with vomit earns you a negative score. However, she did seem more concerned than upset, so we'll grade it on a curve and give the evening a two."

Fred moaned and pulled a pillow over his face.

"She left you a note, Lover Boy."

Fred sat up and snatched it out of George's hand. Tearing it open, he read, _I feel awful for having such a good time and not realizing you were ill. Please don't worry about anything. For our second date, I'll be sure to wear boots. Love, Hermione._

"Everything okay?" George asked.

"I get a second date." Fred sagged in relief. "I feel better already."


End file.
